


Flatline

by grapefruity



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, One Shot, Sadstuck, i don't know why i wrote this and the only plausible explanation is that i hate myself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 17:54:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5794159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grapefruity/pseuds/grapefruity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The searing liquid tearing at your back almost seems deserved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flatline

You thought the first thing you’d hear would be your voice. Rattled, strained, and filling your eardrums as loud as your pulse. What you heard instead was the shriek of your name from her instead. And that in itself just made dying all the more painful than it had seemed to be from just a few seconds earlier.

 

You can make out small things in her features. Her mouth pulled apart in horror, the splatterings of teal from her beating from him - _him._ Oh, you never regretted anything as much as not having stopped him when you had the chance. And that, is saying a hell of a lot considering how much your life seems to be full of regrets and mistakes. It’s like you were destined for it from the very beginning, back when the universe decided to hatch you as a splotch on a system that needed to be wiped out.

  
  
She had loved that splotch. Terezi had found your mistakes to be decadent even. And then, one day, she stopped, and realized that at the heart of it all, they were really just mistakes. Even this one. The one with you falling to your death towards a pit of lava, watching the only thing you ever only wanted to do right by howl after you like the sight - scent - had been the final blow to snap her. 

  
  
The searing liquid tearing at your back almost seems deserved.

  
  
You never believed in that whole, life flashing before your eyes shtick, it just sounded like an emotional ploy to get people to romanticize the notion of death. (Not that you didn’t do your fair share of romanticization in another light.)

 

But yet, it actually proves to be real. You’re two sweeps old, and it’s the first time you’ve scraped your knee. Crabdad’s fussing over you, almost unnecessarily so, making sure he can cover up your blood as much as possible. It took you another two sweeps to realize why it was such a big deal. It took you another two to begin hating yourself for it.

 

You’re five sweeps and a wall of teal text is bombarding your chat client and _god fucking dammit does this girl ever shut the hell up._ FLARP? Seriously?

 

You’re six, and you see her for the first time, and your breath catches in your throat when she goes in for a hug like that’s the most normal way to greet someone you’ve met for the first time in person. You’re still six when she kisses you.  Her lips are soft, softer than you imagined someone with shark like teeth to be. 

 

You want to feel them over and over and over again.

 

You’re six and a half and you’ve lost that sensation, since someone else has earned it in your stead. He’s redder than you’ve ever been, and anyone else would find that disgusting. Not her. Never her. The only disgusting thing she can see is you. 

 

You spend the next few perigees bitterly watching them while your chest tightens more and more every time she leans in to kiss his cheek. That, once upon a time, was you.

  
You’re seven sweeps, and you’re finally breaking up with Gamzee. He doesn’t even care. His eyes don’t sag, neither do his lips. He almost smirks at you, like he was waiting for you to come along.

 

Like you took too long and it was pathetic how much you desperately clung to a moirallegiance he never was invested in. And soon, you’ll find out that it’s because he’s swooped up the one crack of sunlight you ever let into your life too, crushing it between his claws.

  
You’re seven and a half, and watching her fall apart like this, makes you surge with such a strong emotion that you have no choice but to swallow back now. You miss those lips, and you wonder if she misses yours. You miss the way she laughed, you miss the way her eyes twinkled even though there was nothing in them but seared memories.

 

Now, there’s just dull teal orbs that look horribly out of place and a sense of despondency you never would’ve expected on her. It makes you want to kill him, makes you want to dig through her to find the person she once used to be. It takes you roughly ten minutes to realize that none of you are who you used to be anymore. The game has broken you like shoddily made instruments, because that’s what you allreally were.

 

You’re seven and a half, and the last thing you see before you die, is her hand reaching out for yours. 

 

And you can’t touch it ever again.


End file.
